Righting an Old Wrong
by ladyfreque
Summary: When a Cheyenne youth is found dead outside the Reservation, Officer Mathias asks Longmire to work together with him to solve the murder. They think they've found their man, but why does a 50 year old suicide of a cop seem to be part of the case?
1. Chapter 1

Longmire  
Righting an Old Wrong  
Chapter 1

 **(Author's note: I am a big fan of Longmire, both book and television forms. My brain has ben looking for just the right story and I think I found it. Let me know what you think.)**

With the way things have been, it's not often that I get a phone call from the Tribal Police. Especially not with them requesting help from me and my office. Yet, here I was, hanging up my phone with just that situation.

"Ruby" I yelled, ignoring the intercom that I was supposed to be using. "I need who ever's available. Dead body out by the TransCom oil line."

My intercom was blinking at me, so I picked it up. "So why is Officer Mathias calling us about it? She asked.

"The deceased is a Cheyenne kid. Don't know much more. Mathias wants us to work with him on this."

Ruby snorted. "That's a first."

Mathias and a few of his men met me at the site. Vic and the Ferg were able to join me. The boy was high school age. Mathias identified him as Victor Young Dog, a junior over at the reservation high school. They had no idea why he was out there. The location was several miles from the Res. He had been shot twice. Execution style, which is not common out here. The blood indicated that he had been shot and died at the location, probably late the previous day. Since we were working together for now, Mathias agreed that I could transport him to Durant to have an autopsy done. He also agreed that I could come onto the Reservation to interview. We both agreed to share information.

I decided to start on the Res. talking to people that knew Victor. Mathias was going to talk to his family to see what he could find out. I headed over to the school. The principal was shocked about the loss of Victor. He didn't know the deceased that well, so he sent me to talk to his history teacher, Mrs. Baker.

Molly Baker was outside with her archery team. It was her second year with us. She had come out from California as a divorcee trying to put her life back together. To almost everyone's surprise, she had fit in. So many of the white Reservation teachers couldn't handle life here.

The news of Victor's death had preceded me. Molly was upset about it. She had known our victim and was able to give us names of his friends. She said he was a mediocre student, but a good kid. She didn't know why Victor was found out by the oil line.

Meanwhile, back in Durant, the doctor started the autopsy. I sent Vic and the Ferg over to TransCom after they finished processing the murder site. It was pretty clear it was murder. I just didn't know what Victor was doing clear out there. Or who had killed him.

Sometimes unraveling a murder case takes time. This was one of those. Within a few days we had a list of the TransCon employees who had been at work in the area. We also knew what caliber gun has killed Victor Young Dog. Mathias was getting pressure from the family, so we were doing our research as fast as we could.

We got a break when we found out that Victor and a few of his friends were doing some under the table work for one of the TransCon supervisors. That supervisor talked about some trouble between his illegal employees (underage) and another supervisor.

The other supervisor was named Brent Rogers. We brought him into Durant. A check of his records showed he had been in some trouble out in CA (mostly drugs), but had been clean since leaving there. He was carrying a gun that matched the caliber of the murder weapon. I had Vic run the ballistics and it was a match. I read Mr. Rogers his rights and placed him in a cell.

That should have been case closed. For some reason, murder often isn't clean or even sensible. Molly Baker lived in town and was over at the Busy Bee getting some supper when we called over there to ask for a take out order. Since Molly knows all of us, she agreed to bring the order over before going home herself.

I didn't plan on having Molly talk to the prisoner, especially since he was accused of killing one of her students. But she overheard Vic say his name and stopped dead in her tracks. "Brent Rogers?" she asked. "He isn't originally from Southern California is he?"

"Yes he is" I responded. "Do you know him?"

"I might. Could I see him?"

Well, I couldn't see any reason why not, and maybe it might shine some light on why all this happened. Rogers kept saying he didn't do it. When Molly looked at him it was almost like she was seeing a ghost. "Brent?" she asked.

He turned towards her. "Yeah."

"Dear God, it is you! What the hell are you doing in Wyoming? The last I knew of you was many years ago in Hollywood. I'm Molly. I met you through Jacque and Brian and that bunch."

Brent took a good look at her. "I remember you. How the hell did you end up out here? Last I heard you were married and doing well out in CA."

"I think we both have some stories to share at some point. What's this about you being accused of killing one of my students?"

Rogers looked her square in the eye. "Molly, I didn't kill the Indian kid. I think it's part of what happened to my dad. My brother and I have been investigating that and I think we've gotten too close to the truth."

Clearly there was something else going on here, but as long as she had him talking, it was time for me to step in. "So why were we able to identify your gun as the murder weapon?"

Brent Rogers looked up at me. "Last week I reported my gun as stolen. When it turned up yesterday I figured that whoever took it decided they didn't want to answer to the police. I've been working and didn't have a chance to report it returned."

"Ferg!" I yelled.

"On it, Walt."


	2. Chapter 2

Longmire  
Righting an Old Wrong  
Chapter 2

 **Author's note: This just might be one of those stories that won't let me alone until I finish it. I don't own any of the Longmire characters. Oh yes, and when I write dialog for Officer Victoria Moratti, just mentally include all the f-bombs that's she's so prone to use.)**

This case was starting to get interesting, so I took Molly into my office. "I need you to tell me how you know the suspect and what you know about the death of his father."

She sat down and took a deep breath. "When I was little, one of my father's best friends was a police detective for our local force. I used to play with both his sons. One day the wife came home from work and discovered that her husband had been shot and killed. My dad and the rest of that circle of friends were all questioned and told not to leave town."

"Eventually the decision was made that Detective Rogers had committed suicide after discovering that his wife was having an affair. My dad thought that was odd, but the police closed the case and moved on. The wive moved outside of town and I forgot all about them."

"Fast forward to when I was in my late teens. My best friend Jacque was dating a guy named Brian. Brian and Brent, and some other friends got involved in dealing drugs. There was some other serious stuff going on, so I vanished from that scene. Jacque broke up with Brian and that was sort of the end of that. Until today."

"So you don't know what Rogers is talking about regarding his father's death?"

Molly shrugged. "When Brent and I remet in the 70's we mostly pretended we didn't know who each other was. I think we only talked about his family once and that was briefly. I just don't remember much more about the original case. Sorry."

Brent Rogers told a more detailed story. He said that his mother had found the body and that it was thought to be a murder investigation at first. Then suddenly the story about the supposed affair came out. "My mother swore on her dying day that she had never had an affair while married to my father. That was created when the corrupt local police were either unable or unwilling to find the real murderer."

"Before she died, my mother gave my brother a file and asked me and my brother to continue her search for truth. To clear my father's name. The file was the original police report on his death, along with some pages of evidence that was not in the report that was filed."

"I had left Southern California and was working up in Alaska, so after mom was taken care of, I went back up there and left the evidence with my brother, Will. Some of my dad's old police buddies were still alive and were willing to talk about my father's police work. They had their own suspicions about his death."

"What Will came up with was that dad had been investigating a gangster named Joey Falconi. He was trying to extort protection money from local merchants. But Falconi had connections, so dad was being very careful in his investigation."

I interrupted, "So you think this Falconi was involved in your father's death? If so, what does that a have to do with the murder you're charged with?"

Rogers nodded. "Falconi was the only real lead we have in my father's death. He's still alive. He lives in Southern California where he purports to be an honest businessman. I think we were getting too close, because last month my brother received a very pointed threat to drop our investigation. Will said that the man was big, bigger than me even, and he took the threat seriously. Will sent the information on the case to me and I put it safely away while I figured out what to do next."

Brent Rogers is not a small man. Probably 6'2" and around 275 pounds, most of it muscle. Falcons had sent some serious muscle to intimidate Will Rogers. "And the death of Victor Young Dog is tied to this how?"

"I think Falconi knows I have the information and this is his way to put me away. I don't know why the boy was involved. Maybe it's a warning. I don't know."

This would take some thinking. Long shot probably. "Vic!" I yelled.

She had been down the hall. "Yes, Walt?"

"I want you to look up, carefully, a probable gangster named Joey Falconi that was active in Southern California starting in the 1960's. Was he tied to organized crime, and what is his status now?" And with all that moving, I sat down to eat my lunch.

Now I trust Molly Baker. She might be from Southern California, that land of fruits and nuts, but she's good people. Neither my people nor Mathias' had been able to find out why Young Dog had been out at there that day. Perhaps Molly with her connections to Victor's friends might be able to find out something.


	3. Chapter 3

Longmire  
Righting an Old Wrong  
Chapter 3

 **(Author's note: I lost internet for about a day. Instead of doing real work, I of course, worked on this story. Chapter 4 is about halfway typed and Chapter 5 is becoming organized in my head. Enjoy! Like all these fan pics, I do not own any of the Longmire characters or stuff. I wish.)**

The next morning I had hoped to attack the ever growing pile of post-its that Ruby had been leaving for me. A lot of them were pretty simple. I had already told Ferg to call Roscoe Jenkins wife Cissy to tell her to stop feeding the stray cats and to put on her eye glasses. That should stop, at least for a while the complaint that she was feeding raccoons and other wildlife.

I was just contemplating the next one when I realized that the intercom light was blinking red at me. Ruby, of course. "Walt, Officer Mathias on line one."

"Mathias, what can I do for you?" I figured it wasn't a call to invite me out to lunch, so I may as well cut to the heart of the matter.

"You can charge that white man with murder so I can get his family and everyone else off my back!" He paused. "Remind me again, why haven't you charged him?"

"Well, Mathias, I like to make sure that I have enough evidence before I actually haul someone in front of the judge. If I don't, the case gets thrown out and we all get in trouble with the judge and the defense attorney. Right now all we have is that Rogers owned the murder weapon. There's no motive I know of. Hey, what did your trackers come up with from the crime scene?"

"They all agree that Victor Young Dog died at the scene from the gunshot wounds. They also said that he was apparently driven there in a truck. The tire treads indicate one of the Chevy brands that you white folks are so fond of. It looks like Young Dog was almost dragged to where he was shot. The person who probably killed him is not that big. Wears a man's size 10 shoe. Work shoe, probably the same brand as almost every other man working for that company."

Now that was interesting. "Mathias, did you get a good look at our suspect? He's over 6 feet tall and wears at least a size 13 shoe. I think we need to broaden our suspect base."

The Tribal Police officer sighed. "I think you're right. Did you send anyone over to your guys's office? I'm in the area if you want me to take a look."

"Sure. Save me a trip. Let me know what you find."

"I will. At least this way I can say I'm actually doing something on the case. I've got a stack of other cases I'd much rather be working on."

"I understand. I'm knee deep in other complaints as well."

And so I went back to work. I didn't have any new ideas and Ruby's post-it's weren't going to go away by themselves. Vic finally got back to me about Joey Falconi, but not before complaining that I always gave her the Organized Crime suspects to check. I told her I wasn't being prejudicial. I just knew that she was probably the only officer who could spell and pronounce their names properly. She gave me one of her patented "I am not amused" looks before giving me her report.

Like Brent Rogers had said, Falconi was Organized Crime. In fact, a whole lot of his family had been identified as such as well. As Rogers had claimed, Falconi was credited with spearheading his groups attempt to move into the small town (that was part of the Los Angeles area) that both Molly and Brent were from. Since then Falconi had moved up on the organizational chart of his organization. The report stated that Falconi retired about 10 years ago and was now presenting himself as a model and honest citizen. He has a son who is up for a judgeship out in Southern California. All interesting stuff, but the pieces still weren't fitting together. I told Ferg to take a good look at the supervisor who had been hiring the Indian kids. Was there anything he was trying to hide?

I went over to the Busy Bee for some lunch. Ordered the usual. Ordered that to go for the prisoner. While I was there the phone rang, for me. Dorothy gave me a look and asked when I was going to get myself a cell phone?

Ruby patched me to an incoming call from Mathias. When he arrived at the office that Rogers was using, he found that it had been very carefully searched. They couldn't find any fingerprints. He had a hunch that this new suspect hadn't found what he was looking for. Rogers shared the office with Davis, the guy I had just asked the Ferg to check. Apparently Davis hadn't been to work since the death of Young Dog. Another loose end to check.

When I brought Rogers his lunch I told him about his office being searched. He looked confused and asked what Davis said about it? When I told him that Davis hadn't been seen since the murder, Rogers looked thoughtful. "I wonder if I hit him harder than I intended?"

"You injured your co-worker?"

"Yeah. Bringing those Indian kids in to do help do clean up on the property was a really bad idea. They can get seriously injured and weren't wearing protective clothing. I got a little mad. Davis was being defensive. I told him he didn't belong working for our company and when he laughed at me I popped him one."

"Did you check on his injuries?"

"Not really. He seemed ok and I really didn't want to be around him right then. He was almost off shift when all this happened, so I didn't think anything of him being gone when I got back."

Rogers ate in silence for a while. Then something occurred to him. "Sheriff, has anyone checked my apartment?"

"Why? Do you think we should?"

"I think if someone searched my office they might feel the need to search my home as well."

"You know, you could be right. Can we have the keys?" He dug them out of his pocket and gave them to me. "Vic!" I yelled. "Let's go take a look at the suspect's apartment."

As we passed Ruby she told me that Molly Baker had called. She wanted me to meet her at the Red Pony around supper time. She had some news for me.

There was a back entrance to the little 6 plex that Rogers lived in, so I sent Vic around that way. I've seen her take down lumberjacks, so I wasn't worried anyone would get by her. I started down the front, but was stopped by the appearance of a formidable looking woman who I assumed, correctly, was the landlady. "Took you long enough to get here!"

I tipped my hat towards her. "Ma'am" I said.

"I assume you want to look at the scene of the break in." She started moving. "That Mr. Rogers is a nice man. Pays his rent on time, no problems."

I interrupted. "Is the person still in his apartment?"

"Oh hell no! As soon as I figured out something was going on up there I released my dogs. They'd scare Lucifer out of hell. Who ever it was took off real quick. I left everything thinking either you or Mr. Rogers would show up."

Since I had the key I unlocked the door. The place had clearly been the site of a search. Vic and I quickly determined that no one was currently in the building. I told her to call the Ferg and ask him to bring the crime scene equipment. We'd need photos, etc. If Mathias was right, the suspect was too much of a pro to leave any prints, but we'd check.

"F***ing A!" Vic commented. "This place is a mess!"

The landlady piped in, "But you notice, no dirty dishes. Brent Rogers wasn't much for cooking or cleaning, but he kept the place neat. Every time I came in here there was never a mess. He said his father taught him the value of keeping things organized and clean. By the way Sheriff, when do you plan on releasing my tenant?"

"Well Ma'am, we actually haven't charged him. And with the looks of this", I waved to indicate the clear evidence of a messy search, "I think he may want to stay someplace safe for a bit."

She nodded. "Just remind him that his rent is due the 5th." After a pause she went on, "When you're done, since you have the key, lock the place up again. No sense in encouraging anyone else to come in here."

I stayed for a while, hoping that something would turn up. Eventually Ruby called Vic to remind me that I needed to get out to the Red Pony to talk to Mrs. Baker. Maybe I'd get lucky there.

Vic radioed me while I was driving. She had interviewed the landlady further. The woman hadn't seen the intruder, but she had noticed a strange truck during that time period-a brown Chevy S10. There had been at least one clear bootprint. A work boot, common style, about size 10. Things were looking up. I now had some linkage between the two burglaries and a bit more information about the vehicle.


	4. Chapter 4

Longmire  
Chapter 4  
Righting an Old Wrong

 **(Author's note: And we are inching our way towards our, hopefully, exciting conclusion. I am doing my best to stick to the television show characters when possible.)**

When I got to the Red Pony Molly was already eating. Not a surprise, since she teaches tomorrow. She has to get up pretty early to make it out to the Res. school on time. When I sat down Molly informed me that she had gotten a call from Vic. I was to order dinner before she could start telling me the news.

And news there was. She started, "Walt, first off, I want you to know that the new information comes from one of my students. I'll explain why he didn't want to come forward."

"Second, when Brent left work the night he fired the kids, he went to talk to someone who he knew would inform the parents and keep it from happening again. Brent realized that going to tribal officials would complicate matters too much."

"Who did he talk to?" I asked.

Molly pointed at the Cheyenne Nation tending the bar. "Brent's been here long enough that he knew that Henry would make sure the right people would find out and that the situation would be dealt with. And it was. So much so that all of the boys understood that they dare not return to their former work place. Walt, Brent was the good guy in this situation."

"The problem in this situation, however, was that Victor Young Dog had left his hat in the office that day, not wanting to risk ruining it during work. When Brent chased them all off, Victor had to leave his hat there. He might have just left the hat there, but he had his clan totem pinned to it. That he could not abandon. So he decided to return that night and asked his friend to come with him."

"According to my student, Victor asked him to wait near the office to keep watch. Just as he was thinking too much time had passed, he heard a truck take off. My student rushed to the office, but no one was there. There was no sign of Victor." Molly paused. "I'm pretty sure there's more, but that's all he was willing to tell me."

"So someone needs to talk to him."

"Molly took her time in responding. "Yes." she said finally. "But I don't think it should be you. If Officer Mathias can do it sensitively, I think he should be the one doing the interviewing. There are cultural elements here that he can use."

She was probably right. The Cheyenne sometimes have a sense of honor that seems strange to us. "I'll call Mathias and have him talk to you tomorrow morning. Can I give him your number?" She nodded and went back to her dinner while I got up to talk to Henry.

"Henry, mind if I use your phone?"

"You know you would not need to do that if you had a cell phone…"

"Who knows, one of these days I might actually get and use one… By the way, did Brent Rogers tell you about the Indian boys working illegally in the oil field?"

"Yes, he did. And I notified the parents. And in case you are wondering, I do not think he was the murderer of Victor Young Dog.."

"I agree with you. Once I'm done with this phone call and my dinner I'm going to go back to the office and ask Mr. Rogers what he wants to do."

Mathias was none too happy getting a call from me after working hours, but at least it wasn't after he had gone to bed. I've done that before. After I informed him about the information from Molly, he agreed to contact her first thing in the morning. He agreed that he should be the one to interview the Cheyenne student.

After another one of the Bear's excellent meals I headed back to the office. The Ferg was taking care of an accident on the interstate. He had called me with the news that there were no fatalities and that he was helping one of the drivers to the hospital. If his injuries weren't too severe, after his release from there Ferg was going to book him into our hotel for drunk driving and such.

Rogers was awake when I arrived. Vic was just finishing up asking him questions about his apartment. "Did you figure out if anything was taken?"

"The s.o.b. took my favorite Dodger hat. It was a collectable my mom got me soon after my dad died. And it looks like he cleaned out my liquor supply too. I had some nice craft beers I was going to enjoy during the game on Saturday!"

"Anything else you can see missing? Do you think he got what he came for?"

"Assuming he was looking for the evidence folder, no. It looks to me like he searched and then just took what he wanted when he couldn't find it."

"Now," I told him, "I'm not assuming that the murder case is tied to the death of your father. It could be a case of murder and some cases of burglary. But I'm not ruling out any possibilities right now. I want you to carefully think about these photos and let me know if you see anything else missing. Could this just have been a home invasion robbery?

I could see he was thinking. "I got something else to talk to you about. Congratulations, nobody thinks you murdered Victor Young Dog. You are free to go. However, I'd like you to consider staying here for a few more days. Whoever searched your office and apartment is still out there. And I'm not sure they wouldn't use violence to get what he or she wants. Plus, having folks consider you a suspect means whoever it is won't be trying other things to frame you."

Rogers took a long look about his cell and laughter. "I've certainly stayed in worse accommodations. And you're right about me being at risk if I'm on the outside. But I would appreciate getting out of here sooner rather than later. I'd like to keep my job."

"I'll have a private word with your boss. Hopefully he'll be understanding. Oh, and your landlady said to remind you that your rent check is due the 5th." I did some quick thinking. "We'll leave your cell door unlocked, but please keep it closed, especially when there are others around."

"I appreciate that. Did my co-worker Davis ever show up?"

"I'm not sure. I need to check in with Vic on that."

Vic and I went into my office. As we compared notes it became clear that the puzzle pieces were starting to come together. I still couldn't tell what the final picture would be, but my gut told me we were starting to get close. Davis was still missing. He was the right size to be our assailant. I told Vic we needed to find him. She would start the check of credit cards, etc. I told her to call the oil company in the morning and get a list of new employees from starting, oh, 6 months ago. And to start checking those. Especially for workers who could wear a size 10 shoe and were from Southern California.

"Why Southern California?"

"The baseball cap that was stolen from the apartment. That's too random. A local, unless he knew the value wouldn't bother. But someone from the Dodger fan area might see it as an opportunity." I sent Vic home soon after that. I wanted her wide awake in the morning. Something had to break on this, and soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Longmire  
Writing and Old Wrong  
Chapter 5

 **(Author's note: All stories start someplace. This one was a combination of me wanting to write a murder mystery fan pic for Longmire, and me being reminded of a story from my childhood. My father really did have a close friend who was a police officer that committed suicide. My dad always wondered about that. The father's death affected the lives of the wife and both the sons. I'm glad I'm getting to make the story end better.)**

I have to give Mathias credit for how he handled Molly's student Billy Small Feet. I've listened to the tape. Billy was very honest about the fact that he and Victor went back out to the site against their parents wishes. They didn't know about his visit the night of the murder and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I understand, Little Brother, why you do not want your parents to know. But you are of an age to start being a warrior for the people. What you and Victor did was like a small raiding party that young warriors do-sometimes without permission of the Elders. And sometimes against the wishes and commands of the Elders."

Mathias continued, "Sometimes, in the old days, young warriors would go on these unauthorized missions and not all would come back safely. It was necessary for the returning young warriors to tell the Elders exactly what had happened. A detailed mission report. The tribe needed the information."

"And so, I need you to make the report to me what happened that night. The young warriors of olden days made their reports, knowing what it would cost them in reputation and often in goods. You need to be as brave as they."

I could almost hear Billy swallowing and taking a deep breath. Most of the rest was in Cheyenne, but Mathias translated for me. Billy had gone with Victor that night. He waited in the bushes just outside the front of the office, while Victor went in the back door. It was to be a quick in and out.

When Billy realized that it was taking too long, he snuck towards the back door. Before he could get there a truck left from behind the building, in a hurry. Billy was heartbroken to realized that he couldn't get to the truck in time. He recognized his friend, Victor inside.

Further questioning by Mathias revealed a few more facts. The timing was right before the M.E's stated time of death. The truck was a Chevy F-10, a dark color, possible brown. The driver had dark hair, but he was not Indian. Some kind of white man. I really wanted to find that guy now.

Gradually my staff began to come into the office. The list had come in from the oil company office. Vic was going through it. The Ferg eventually came in. The suspect in the vehicle crash had been held overnight by the hospital. The doctors were concerned about some heart issues, so he wasn't going anywhere soon. His condition might even explain why the accident happened. Still waiting for the tox screen to come back on that one. I told Ferg to find Davis. He had to have used his credit card for something by now.

I figured that since I'm not much for computers, I should see what I could do about the pile of notes that were collecting on my desk. The FBI had called, asking about a tip they had received about a group of terrorists living just off the Rez. I called back and talked to the Agent In Charge. The "tip" was from a man calling himself Chief Spotted Owl. I told them I'd check it out, but I already knew it was Tony Rawlins, a Vietnam Vet who loved yanking the FBI's chain.

That was the most serious issue. Mostly it was people not getting along, people getting drunk and making poor choices, and people stealing stuff. I reminded Gus, the owner of the Quick Stop Market that if he wanted to cut down on theft, he was actually going to have to turn his cameras on. Thieves could see that they didn't work.

I was finally making a dent in all this when Ferg yelled out, "Walt, we got him!" Davis had headed south, and had spent the night in Colorado Springs. We made a few phone calls and determined that Davis had left that morning. He had told the waitress in the motel restaurant that he was going back to Texas. Wyoming just didn't understand him and how he worked. We put out an APB. I had a hunch, if he was headed to Texas (and the paperwork said he was from Midland), he would probably go through the Raton Pass in New Mexico.

Having done what we could to find Davis for now, I told Ferg to help Vic with her list. I went back to my pile of notes. By lunchtime The two were about done with their lists, so I went over to the Busy Bee to get lunch for us and Rogers.

By the time I got back a call had come in and I had Ferg go out to handle it. I wanted him to check on our vehicular suspect too. I told Vic to go over the part of the list that Ferg had looked at. I had finished eating and was feeding Dog some hamburger scraps when suddenly Vic started typing rapidly on her computer.

Her habitual cursing became louder. "Come on you S.O.B. I know you're in there…" Then suddenly, "Walt, we've f***ing got him!"

"Which him?"

"The owner of the POS shit brown Chevy- S-10. New employee Raymond Thompson. Only, according to the VIN information, the real owner is a Raymond Tomsetti. Any guess who he is listed as working for?"

"How this is going, I'd say Vincent Falconi."

"Very close. Tomsetti is listed as being head of security for Vince, Junior. Who is running for a judgeship in the Los Angeles area."

"I'll be darned. Rogers was telling us at least some of the truth. Now why is Falconi, Junior involved in all this?"

"I don't know. Maybe the old man is f***ing senile now."

I walked over to the jail cell. "Hey Rogers, why is Falconi, Junior sending a man out here?"

Brent Rogers looked surprised. "Junior?" He thought a few moments then responded. "When my brother sent me the file I didn't look at too closely. I just made sure it was what it was supposed to be, and that it had the same number of pages that my brother sent. Maybe there's something in there now that might relate to Senior and Junior. I don't know."

"Then I guess we ought to get that file out of storage and take a look at it."


	6. Chapter 6

Longmire  
Writing an Old Wrong  
Chapter 6

 **(Author's note: I'm very sorry for the delay. Real life striking. Next chapter should be the conclusion and epilogue. I'll try to get it out before work gets too Christmas crazy.)**

Before we could figure out how to safely get the file out of Rogers safe deposit box, we had a few other things to do first. By safely, I meant get the file out without getting Rogers killed. Or anyone else hurt.

The first thing I did was to call the boss over at TransCon. It was time I gave him an update. He had news for me too. It seems that Davis had called him to officially quit. I wrote down the Texas forwarding information. The boss was surprised when I asked about Tomkins. "You know," I commented. "You should probably have your HR people check new hires a little more closely. It turns out Tomkins is actually Tomsetti. His record shows him having ties with Organized Crime in Southern California."

"Well, damn!"

"Yeah, that was how we felt about it. If Tomkins, or Tomsetti, or whoever he is, shows up for work, please give us a call."

And then I gave Mathias a call. It took a while to reach him. It seems he was stuck in a meeting with tribal elders about the crime. Once he was able to get the message that I had called he took that as his excuse to end his part of the meeting. He had already gotten the message. He really needed to find out who the killer of Victor Young Dog was. After I got him up to speed on the case Mathias asked if he could join us in the capture. I had no problem with that. Our new suspect was a pro. I'd take all the help I could get.

A few hours later we held a war council, with Henry and Brent Rogers present. By now, Tompkins was probably watching the bank. According to the Ferg, someone matching Tompkins description had already come into the bank asking for access to the safe deposit box. And was refused. He was going to have to get Rogers to retrieve the file for him. And so he was watching. Somewhere.

Ferg created a really nifty 3-d computer drawing of the bank and the area around it. It was, of course, in the center of what passes for our downtown. There were a lot of places that Tomkins could use to watch the front entrance of the bank. It would alert him if we started searching them. I was more than half tempted to ask Henry to do the searching. Tomkins would never see him coming.

In the end we chose a plan that would force Tomkins out into the open. Rogers would go to the bank, escorted by Vic and I. Ferg would be outside the back door of the bank. Mathias would be in the bank, in civies, along with some of his deputies who would also be along the street. I told Henry (who insisted on helping) to choose his own spot. Tompkins would make his move once Rogers had the evidence, probably outside.

The first part went according to plan. Rogers had his thick envelope. That got switched with a duplicate that Mathias had, which he then gave to one of his deputies. We headed outside. And our plans went to shit.

As we headed towards our office (less than a block away), Tomkins ran by, grabbing the file as he went. In the process he managed to shove Vic into the wall. Vic and I yelled for him to stop. Tomkins kept running. He went around the corner and up the alley. I'm running, Vic is running. Mathias is right behind us. It looked like we might lose him when Henry came out of nowhere and clotheslined Tomkins. And when Henry tackles someone, they stay down.


	7. Chapter 7

Longmire  
Righting an Old Wrong  
Chapter 7

 **(Author's note: And we come to a conclusion. Let me know what you think. In my imagination Molly Baker insists on having more adventures in Absoroka County. Let me know if you want to read about any of them.)**

Epilogue

We hauled our suspect over to my jail. Then the question was, What do we do with him? Mathias wanted him charged with murder. Reasonable. We couldn't keep Tomkins/Tomsetti here. The most reasonable thing to do was to take him over to TriCities prison. They could hold him until arraignment and trial. But once Tomkins was at the prison, unless they kept him safe, the Red Power gang would take care of him.

Now to my way of thinking, having Tomkins die in prison was not a bd thing. But Tompkins as Tomsetti had a pile of people wanting to talk to him, the FBI being on the top of the pile. If we notified the FBI that we had Tomsetti they'd be all over this. My hunch was that they wanted him to turn State's evidence against Falconi - Senior and Junior. Tomsetti would go into witness protection and there would be no justice for Victor Young Dog.

After some very heated arguments we agreed upon a plan that Vic proposed. We would take Tomkins down to TriCities for security sake. Then once we got back to the office, we'd start calling everyone who wanted Tomsetti. And we'd tell them where he was being safely held. If the gangs got to Tomkins first…

The only thing I regretted was that there was no evidence about Detective Rogers. Unless Tomkins talked, there might never be. So while my deputies were dealing with the paperwork and such for the prisoner's transfer, I decided to have a little heart to heart with Mr. Tomsetti.

"Hey, Tomkins, or Tomsetti, or whatever the hell your name is, I thought I'd let you know we're getting ready to transfer you to our local prison. And once we get back, we'll start notifying all those people who want a piece of you. Even the FBI wants to talk to you. But to be honest, I don't think they're going to get a chance. You see, that prison we're taking you too is full of various gangs. Maybe some of them might want to protect you, but a hit man who has killed an Indian child is probably not going to last long." I paused to let that sink in. "Now I can request solitary confinement for you-it may keep you alive long enough for some other law enforcement agency to come get you. But I need something in return."

Tompkins stared at me. "I'm not going to confess to killing the Indian kid."

"No, I don't expect you to. And I'm not going to ask why you came out here. The evidence in Roger's safety deposit box is pretty clear. Your employers would not want that getting out. No, what I want is information on the death of Detective Walter Rogers."

Tomkins stared at me. "You'd keep me safe just for that?"

"I'll do what I can by informing the prison officials of your status."

I could see he was thinking. "You'd better make your mind up quickly. I ain't got all day."

"OK, what do you want to know?"

"The official police report said that the death of Detective Rogers was a suicide. Was that true?"

Tomkins laughed. "My Uncle Frank, God rest his soul, had a real talent for making murder look like suicide. He taught me how to do it. In fact, he used the example of the Rogers supposed suicide as a teaching tool. It was one of his. The Detective was getting too close to his bosses."

"If the Rogers brothers want evidence about their father's murder, they should talk to the FBI. My uncle became a snitch for them, which led to his own death."

And now we had come full circle. Detective Rogers had not committed suicide, despondent over the supposed infidelity of his wife. I was going to lean on the FBI a bit to get them to release the information on that. Only fair, since the sons had uncovered this new information.

After all this was cleared up, Rogers came in to visit me. After thanking me for my help and hospitality, he told me that he was going back up to Alaska. Although he had been proven innocent of the murder, it's a small community and folks weren't making it easy for him.

I ran into Molly Baker a few days later at the Red Pony. I asked her if she knew that Rogers was leaving?

"Yes, he came by the other day and we talked. I understand why he's leaving. This can be a hard place to live in." She paused. "This may sound cold, but Brett Rogers and I don't have much in common anymore. Detective Walt Rogers was one of my fathers best friends and I'm glad his name was cleared. But Brett and I will probably never see each other again. Some friendships are just not meant to last."


End file.
